


The Forest With Teeth

by Nightfoot



Category: Tales of Vesperia
Genre: Alternate Universe - Medieval, Horror, M/M, Romance, Supernatural Elements
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-26
Updated: 2016-08-26
Packaged: 2018-08-11 03:15:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 21,710
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7873993
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nightfoot/pseuds/Nightfoot
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Don't go into the forest." That's what Flynn's been told his whole life.  Nobody can say exactly what horrors lurk within, but everyone assures him they're there.  Flynn has never been tempted to venture in, until Yuri sets off on a mission of his own and Flynn is compelled to go after him, and hopefully catch up with him before the beast does.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Into the Deep Woods

Flynn followed Yuri over the wall, but he checked to make sure no one was looking first. Thankfully, no one else was between the barn and the stone wall wrapping around this side of the village. Before that could change, he scrambled up the rough stones and swung his leg over the top of the chest-high wall.

“No one saw.” He dropped to the ground so his head was below the wall.

“Perfect. Come on.” Yuri waved his hand and started toward the trees, but Flynn didn’t follow. He turned around with his hands on his hips. “Are you coming?”

“Well… are you _sure_ you saw something?” Flynn’s back remained pressed against the wall as his eyes panned over the gnarled branches of the orange trees. Many of them were already shedding their leaves in preparation for winter.

Yuri slumped his shoulders. “You’re not scared are you?”

“No.” Maybe a little. “You know we’re not supposed to go into the forest.”

Yuri looked over his shoulder. If he found the shadows below the branches as intimidating as Flynn did, his face didn’t show it. “It’s not like I want to go on a trek deep into the words. I just want to check out the moving thing I saw” He held out his hand. “Coming?”

Flynn bit his lip. Checking out a mysterious moving thing in the woods did not sound like a particularly good idea. Never play in the old forest, his mother had told him when he was barely old enough to talk. She’d repeated the rule countless times as he grew up, pounding it into his head that he must never, under any circumstances, wander into the woods on the edge of the village. Merely hopping the wall would have been grounds for a hiding were he still a child. It had been easy to follow that rule; every other child in the village had grown up with the same admonishment, and even the adults kept well away from it.

But then, Yuri was right. Creeping behind the first row of trees wasn’t the same as wandering into the woods. They would never be out of sight of the village. Nothing would come this close.

And then there was Yuri. He was a bad influence, Flynn was sure. There was a buzz in Flynn’s chest that made him desire any chance to be alone with Yuri, and balked at the concept of letting Yuri think him a coward. He wasn’t completely oblivious; he knew exactly what he wanted from Yuri. The trouble came from reminding that flutter in his heart that it would not - _could_ not - ever happen. Still, he could steal a few moments with Yuri in the woods, away from the rest of the village, and just enjoy the company. He grabbed Yuri’s hand and the pair of them darted across the dying grass and into the trees.

They slowed down once they were beneath the shade of the trees. Flynn stopped being paranoid that someone in the village would see them and began his paranoia about something in the woods. There was _probably_ nothing, but a lifetime of stories were hard to ignore completely.

Yuri pointed to something flapping on a branch nearby. He’d spotted the movement while they were fixing a patch in the thatch of Flynn’s family’s cottage. From the roof, Yuri had stared into the trees and excitedly pointed out something he’d spotted. “It’s over there.”

They approached the twisty arms of the yew tree. Snagged on a low branch was a torn triangle of pale blue fabric, flapping in the breeze. “What is it?” Flynn asked.

“Hm…” Yuri put his hands on his hips. “Help me up. I think I can reach it.”

Flynn rested one knee on the ground and cupped his hands. Yuri placed one foot on them and Flynn heaved, giving Yuri enough of a boost to reach up and grab a low branch with one hand. This split his weight between dangling from one arm and resting one foot on Flynn, so his other arm was free to stretch for the fabric. His other foot, meanwhile, flailed about and nearly kicking Flynn in the face.

“This is mud on your boot, right?” Flynn asked as something brown and squishy oozed between his fingers. “You better not have stepped in sheep dung.”

“I’m pretty sure it’s mud.”

“Pretty?” A large spider crawled out of the leaves near Flynn’s foot. He glared at it and mentally told it to shoo.

Yuri accidentally kneed him in the mouth. “Positive. I got it!”

“Thank the Lord.” That spider was getting awfully close to his toes. He wasn’t necessarily afraid of spiders like the kid next door was, but that didn’t mean he wanted them crawling on him. Yuri dropped to the ground and his thus startled the spider back under the leaves. Flynn rose and brushed his hands together, then wiped the remaining (probable) mud on the hem of his tunic. “So what is it?”

“It looks familiar.” The fabric was about a foot long and powder blue. Flynn took it from him and turned it over, trying to remember where he’d seen this colour before. “Oh, I know. It’s a piece from one of Lord Heurassein’s standards. They fly on his carriage. It must have ripped off during the windstorm the other night.” Yuri, obviously, had never been close enough to the lord’s manor to see the carriage up close. Flynn passed it back. “Well, was it worth sneaking out of the village to find?”

Yuri shrugged. “Satisfied my curiosity at least.”

“Time to go back?” Flynn looked over his shoulder, but found himself reluctant to head back to the village. Back there, surrounded by people, where it was impossible to do anything without the entire village knowing about it within a day.

Yuri followed his gaze. “Yeah… though… it’s kind of nice out here in the forest.”

“For now.”

“Why do you think no one ever goes in the forest?” Yuri turned away from Flynn and peered through the trees.

There were stories, of course. Flynn used to lay awake in fear at night, lighting to the trees so close to his house and imaging dark horrors creeping out to gobble them. But, surely those stories were just things made up to frighten children into not straying from the village. “I imagine it’s just a very dark and disorienting forest which is easy to get lost in, plus the usual dangers of wolves, boars, bandits.”

“Maybe we should go exploring some time. See if the old stories of lost treasure are true.”

“Absolutely not.”

Yuri turned back to him. “Why? Scared?”

“Nobody goes into the forest, Yuri. Nobody. I asked Hanks, and he said that in his whole life he only knew of one person who went into the woods, trying to poach a deer somewhere the lord wouldn’t notice. That person didn’t come back.”

Yuri frowned but then waved it off. “Unlucky encounter with a wolf, or maybe he even ran off to the city to start a new life. So, you really aren’t curious at all? You have heard the rumours about lost treasure deep inside?”

“There’s no way that’s true. Just an old rumour passed down in the tavern.”

“Imagine if it wasn’t though. Imagine if we found piles of gold hidden in the woods, and then we could run off together and get away from this dumb village.” Yuri kicked a rock and watched it smash into a nearby tree. “Lords can do whatever they want.

“Just what do you want to do that you can’t here?” Flynn’s heart beat a little faster.

Yuri met his eyes. Did he feel it, too? The thrum of desire rushing through his blood? When Yuri passed him things, and their fingers touched, did he feel the static too, and was that why the touches seemed to be coming more frequent, and lasting longer? Yuri tore his eyes away and spoke to the trees. “If you don’t know, there’s no point in me saying it.”

Flynn’s Adam’s apple bobbed. “I… think I know.” The words were thick as porridge. Logic told him to stop, shut up, go no further. This was a connection not to be pursued.

When Yuri met his eyes again, his face was softer than Flynn had ever seen. The usual cocky confidence was replaced with uncertainty and nervous hesitation. Staring back at him, needing to know where this conversation was going to go next, Flynn thought the ground was shaking but then realized it was just his knees.

Maybe it was because he’d already broken the rules by sneaking out of the village, maybe something about the forbidden forest was rubbing off on him, but Flynn’s reckless streak was stronger than usual. Before he could talk himself out of it, he leaned forward and kissed Yuri on the cheek. Yuri sucked in a breath and Flynn pulled away quickly, nearly choking on his heartbeat. He started to stammer an apology, but then Yuri grabbed his biceps and pulled him close. The next kiss landed on his lips.

For an eternal moment, the world was perfect. Yuri’s lips were soft and warm against the crisp air of autumn. The world condensed to just the two of them with the rustling leaves as a backdrop and all the years of yearning and what-ifs exploded into reality.

The moment was broken by the clanging of church bells signalling noon. Flynn pulled away with a jolt and the back of his hand went to his lips, as if to wipe Yuri away. The couldn’t bring himself to move the hand, though.

“Sorry,” Yuri said to Flynn’s shocked expression. Yuri seemed more disappointed than surprised.

“No.” Flynn dropped his arm. “I’m sorry. It’s not - I do - we _can’t_ , Yuri.” The church bells had only now stopped their chiming and Flynn knew they’d be expected at the cottage soon for the onslaught of afternoon chores.

Yuri sighed. “I know.”

It wasn’t fair. All Flynn wanted more than anything was to wrap his arms around Yuri and kiss him until the sun went down, but he dared not risk it. He knew he’d never be satisfied with one kiss, especially considering the times he had to kick himself out of daydreams about moving in with Yuri and living happily together in a cottage of their own rather than marrying a nice village girl like he was expected to. His feelings for Yuri burned so hot it hurt his chest, but they would never, ever be accepted in their village. He fought the urge to check over his shoulder once again to make certain no one had wandered over to the wall and peered through the trees to spot them. Flynn shuddered to think what everyone would say. The bailiff’s son getting caught committing sodomy with a hired farm hand would be the talk of the village for years - long enough that Flynn might be done fulfilling the penance the priest would demand. “You’re right,” he said softly. “It would be better if we could run away and do whatever we wanted. But, we can’t. So we have to work with what we have, and that means we have to put this behind us.”

“What if we did run away? We could go to London. Lots of people live there, so it wouldn’t be like here where everyone knows everyone else.”

Flynn shook his head. “You can’t, Yuri.” Flynn, whose father worked directly for the lord and owned his small patch of land, was free to leave the manor’s estate. A simple serf like Yuri was not.

“If we were rich, I could. If we found a hidden treasure, I could pay it to the lord to clear my debt and I’d be free to go. Then we could use what was left to rent a little room together in London and get away from a lifetime of spending more time with sheep than with each other.”

“We could,” Flynn admitted. “But we’re not going to find a hidden treasure. That’s just an old story, and we shouldn’t even be in the forest long enough to be having this conversation, let alone explore it enough to find it. I’m sorry, Yuri.”

“Not your fault,” Yuri grumbled. “You’re right, of course. It’s just… ugh, I hate this.” He kicked a tree root. Maybe someday - oh, god’s bones!” He dropped his arms and looked past Flynn, back toward the village. “Not again.”

“What?” Flynn jerked around, terrified someone had spotted them.

“Your stupid sheep wandered away from the flock again.”

Flynn turned and spotted a fluffy white animal munching on grass near the wall. He rolled his eyes. “Why are they _my_ sheep whenever they’re frustrating? They were _our_ sheep when they gave the wool for your shirt.”

“Because your father owns them, and of the two of us, you’re not the one he’s going to skin alive if any of them go missing. Sorry to cut this short, but I happen to like my skin where it is.”

“It’s fine. I’ll help you bring her back.” Flynn took a few steps toward the village, but his foot came down on a gnarled tree root. His ankle slid to the side and he threw his arm out to catch himself on the trunk, but all he managed to do was slash his palm on a rough piece of bark before landing on his knees.

“Whoa, easy there.” Yuri grabbed his arm to help him up. “You alright?”

“Yes, sorry, I’m fine.” His knee throbbed, but it would be a bruise at the worst. He was more concerned with his stinging right hand and clutched it in the other to examine it. On the palm below his pinkie finger, the skin was ripped and inflamed surrounding a jagged cut.

“Good lord.” Yuri leaned over to see, and then Flynn had to move his hand again with Yuri’s head blocked the light. “There isn’t a knife hidden in the tree, is there?”

“No. I guess I just… hit the exact wrong spot at the wrong angle.” A bead of blood trickled off his palm and sank into the forest floor. Flynn twisted his arm to put his palm to his mouth and sucked on the wound. “Don’t worry, it’s fine. Let’s get that sheep before she wanders off again.”

They left the shade of the trees and into the sunlight. The sheep in question had roamed away from the flock and around the wall on the other side of the village. Flynn recognized the sheep as the little adventurous one that always seemed to be drifting away from the flock. A strong piece of him wanted to stay beneath the trees with Yuri’s body so close to his, because if this stupid sheep got nabbed by a wolf it would be its own fault. They couldn’t, of course, and if Yuri had suggested ignoring it he would have lost a lot of respect for him. When a sheep strayed, you went after it. That was just the way it was.

“Alright, Fluffy, adventure’s over,” Yuri said as they reached it. “I promise the grass on the other side of the wall is just as tasty.”

They began guiding the sheep away but something intangible tingled the back of Flynn’s neck. He whipped his head back to see what was creeping up behind him, but there was nothing but the shadows of the trees and branches rattling in the breeze.

 

* * *

 

In the grey hours of the next morning, Flynn drifted toward wakefulness at a touch.

“Flynn.” Yuri’s voice in his ear.

Eyes still closed, he mumbled, “Hm?” and pulled his scratchy blanket up to his chin.

“I’m going to find it,” he murmured with his hand on Flynn’s shoulder. It was cold, which didn’t make Flynn any less resentful at being woken early on one of the few days of the year he was allowed to sleep past dawn.

“Go t’sleep,” Flynn grumbled.

“It’s in the forest. Don’t worry about me. I’ll be back before you know it.” The hand left his shoulder and Yuri disappeared.

The chains of sleep began dragging Flynn back into oblivion, but just enough of what Yuri had said fought back. He was going… to find something… in the forest. Flynn blinked and pried his eyes open.

“W-wait.” He rubbed his eyes and propped himself up from the straw mattress. Flynn dragged himself to the edge of the wooden loft. He looked down on the main room just in time to see the wooden door thump shut. “Yuri!”

When Yuri said forest… he didn’t mean the forbidden one, right? He must have meant the sparsely wooded area on the other side of the village, which surrounded the road leading toward the next town. Yuri’s words yesterday about exploring the forest and the possibility of lost treasure deep inside ran through his head. Yuri wouldn’t be that reckless, right? He may not believe in the beast, but the stories existed for a reason and the woods were unquestionable dangerous.

All this rushed through his head while he struggled to tug his boots on. It was too early for this, his groggy muscles whined as he scrambled down the ladder. There were precious few days of rest between finishing the summer harvest and the backbreaking work of preparing the fields for the winter crop, and Flynn didn’t want to spend one of them running after Yuri when the sun had barely blipped over the horizon. On the steps of his house, he spotted Yuri disappearing around the stable.

“Yuri! Wait up!” Flynn ran after him, shivering in the morning mist and wishing he’d grabbed his cloak before running out of the house.

Around the old wooden building, a trail of footprints in the morning dew led straight to the mossy wall. Yuri was crouched on the top of it and looked back when Flynn called his name. There was the flash of a smile and then he jumped to the ground on the other side.

“Yuri, you clod,” Flynn grumbled as he ran after him. He limbed over the cold stone wall and felt a sharp pain in his hand when he pressed the injured palm against the rock. This slowed him down so by the time he hopped down to the wet grass on the other side, Yuri was disappearing into the trees.

“Yuri!” Flynn ran to the edge of the trees. “Yuri, you get back here this instant!” Flynn stood on a tree root, one hand resting against the trunk. Yuri was deeper in the trees now than they’d been yesterday and Flynn hesitated before running after him. It was like there was an invisible rope around his chest, tying him to the village with a lifetime of warnings and admonishments to never, ever go into the forest. “You’re going to be in a lot of trouble, Yuri! Get back here!” Flynn bit his lip and looked over his shoulder at the village. “Lord help me,” he muttered and dashed after his friend.

“This isn’t a joke, Yuri. The forest is dangerous and we have work to do later this afternoon. If you wander off, my father will be furious.” He slowed down when he entered the mist. It curled around trees and made odd shadows in the corner of his eye. Flynn took a deep breath and his lungs were filled with the scent of damp earth and mildew. “Yuri?”

Which way had he gone? Yuri had walked around a tree and now Flynn couldn’t see him anywhere. “Yuri! Come on, let’s go home. Whatever you’re looking for can’t be worth this.”

The only response was the rustling of leaves. “...Yuri?” His heart thumped. “Yuri, we shouldn’t be here.” It seemed like the mist had swallowed him up. Flynn swallowed and took a few uncertain steps forward.

A sudden laugh from ahead startled him. “You didn’t have to come!” Yuri called back, though Flynn still couldn’t see him. “Go home, I’m just going a little farther.”

“You are not.” He wasn’t sure exactly which way Yuri had gone. The sun wasn’t yet high enough to make more than a passing attempt at illuminating the forest and the mist further obscured the view. All he knew for sure was that Yuri had sounded quite far ahead and that running blindly into the forest was a very bad idea. “Yuri! Please come back!”

All he got in response was another laugh, even further away.

A knot in his chest pulled him in two directions. Emotion told him to chase Yuri before he got any further away, while logic told him to go home and properly equip himself before venturing deeper into the forest. Logic won, and Flynn tore himself away. Now facing the village, his stomach lurched at how distant the thatch of his house was. Had he really run this far in already? It hadn’t seemed like it at all. Probably a beast wouldn’t come within sight of the village… but he hurried out of the trees all the same.

Flynn strode directly to his house. This situation could quickly turn into a disaster, and all he could focus on was fixing it as quickly as possible. The matter was simple: Yuri had vanished into the woods, so Flynn would go after him.

Back home, he got properly dressed with a warm sweater and a wool cloak. He hesitated and then grabbed his bow and a quiver of arrows. They were tipped with small points, good enough to kill a squirrel or hedgehog, which was all he used it for. But, it was better than nothing. With a knife tucked into his belt and the bow on his back, he felt slightly more prepared for a venture into the dark forest. He also filled a small bag with bread, cheese, and nuts in case it took a while, as well as the battered old lantern and a flint.

On his way out the door, he almost crashed into his father. “Oh! I’m sorry.”

“No bother.” He looked Flynn up and down. “Going hunting?”

“Er… yes.” He was glad the lantern hung from his belt and was covered by his cloak, because he certainly wouldn’t need it in the safe forest by the road. “I thought I’d try to get some squirrels.”

“Alright. I want you home by noon, though, to start chopping the firewood.”

“Yes, sir.”

“And have you seen Yuri? He was supposed to muck out the stable this morning but it doesn’t look like he has.”

Flynn didn’t like to lie and he especially didn’t like lying to his father, but saying Yuri had wandered away from the village to explore the forest on his own would get him in so much trouble. “No, I’m sorry, I haven’t.”

“Hm, alright. Well, if you happen to see him today, let him know I want him back as soon as possible.”

“Ah - yes. I will. We’ll both be back soon.” He hurried away, hoping he wouldn’t have to lie to anyone else to get out of the village without contest. He rounded his cottage and hurried to the wall. It had been so much nicer yesterday when he was doing this with Yuri and his only anxiety was fear of being seen, rather than fear of delving deep into the old forest. On the other side of the wall, he stared at the trees stretched before him, ominous in their silence. Flynn crossed the stretch of grass slowly, half-hoping Yuri would burst out from behind a bush and laugh at him for falling for this prank.

His Adam’s apple bobbed. A hundred childhood stories about the beast lurking behind the trees swam before his mind’s eye, and it was almost enough to turn him back. Just as before, there was a rope around his chest, anchoring him to the village and to safety. He had another connection, though - a bond that stretched ahead of him toward Yuri. He didn’t know what his relationship with Yuri was, but he knew that he could not abide not having one. His fear of losing Yuri forever overrode the promise of safety, and he took his first step into the trees.

 

* * *

 

It was one of Flynn’s earliest memories. He ran up and down the vegetable patch beside his house, waving his arms and occasionally falling flat on his face with a giggle. Running was hard when you’d only mastered walking a year or so before. A sparrow landed next to the turned earth, looking for freshly sown seeds. Flynn screeched and ran toward it, chasing the bird away just as his mother had told him to.

The bird took flight, disappearing over the towering stone wall behind his house. Flynn stood at the end of the vegetable patch, watching the tips of trees swaying beyond the wall. He had no idea what was on the other side, except that birds came from there and then ate their seeds. If he wasn’t over there, he could scare the birds in their home, and then they’d never come back!

It made perfect sense, so he toddled toward the wall. Tiny hands grasped the stones and he pulled himself off the ground. He grunted with exertion and reached for the next stone, but then he heard, “Flynn!”

Arms swooped around him and his mother pulled him away from the wall. “Get down from there.” His feet landed on the grass and he looked up at his mother crouching over him. “Where did you think you were going?”

“To the bird home,” he explained. “So I can chase them there and they won’t be here.”

She wrinkled her brow. “The bird home?”

Flynn pointed over the wall. “The trees.”

Mother’s face changed from confused to stern. “The forest? No, Flynn, you are not allowed to go there.”

“Why?” he whined. “It’s where the birds are.”

She rested her hands on his small shoulders. “We do not enter the old forest, Flynn. That is the home of the beast.”

“The… the what?”

“The beast. It wanders through the trees looking for humans to gobble up. If you go into the forest, the beast will find you, rip you up, and eat you. Do you understand?”

Flynn’s eyes grew wide with terror and he mutely nodded.

“Promise me you will never, ever go in there.”

“I promise.”

“Good.” She scooped him up and carried him back toward the vegetable garden to finish planting the carrots. Flynn wrapped his arms around her neck and peered over her shoulder at the trees beyond the wall. The branches swayed invitingly, but below the boughs he was sure he saw a shadow slink past a tree.

 

* * *

 

Flynn walked slowly through the forest. As the day warmed up, the mist faded and he was able to see more than when he first came in. Not that there was anything to see. After a lifetime of fearing this place, he’d expected a few more horrors. Instead, the forest was silent. He’d entered a few hours ago and so far he hadn’t seen a single living creature. He’d heard the scampering of small furry animals in the distance, and birdsong twittered in the distance, but nothing he could see. It unnerved him. It was like the forest was holding its breath, waiting for something to happen.

There was no path through the woods. If there had been once, generations without use had swallowed it up. The only way to find Yuri was track him like prey. Luckily, Flynn had experience hunting so he knew what to look for to track an animal, but he was used to relying on patterns in the snow, since he usually only hunted in winter when there was no farm work to do and food was scarce. The soil in the forest was soft enough to preserve footprints, at least, and Yuri was putting no effort into stealth. He left behind snapped branches or strands of hair clinging to an overhanging bush.

At this point, he almost felt silly for panicking so much over the prospect of entering the forest. So many years of horror stories had made him expect goblins and trolls around every bush, but instead the scenery was beautiful. The sun was high in the sky now and had dispelled the mist, making the view as crisp as the air. The sun pierced columns of light through the orange leaves, wherein specks of dust swam through gold. He couldn’t see too far into the distance thanks to the wall of red and orange as trees built up to obscure it.

Flynn climbed up a lichen-encrusted log that was blocking his way and rested his hand against it was he hopped down. This sent enough twinge through his palm and he looked down with a wince to see a smear of blood on the pale yellow lichen. When they had gotten home yesterday, he’d tied a strip of fabric around his palm. It helped quell the blood, but the position of the cut meant that every time he creased and then opened his hand, the skin tugged open and began bleeding anew. At some point during his walk, it had started bleeding again and the cloth had slipped from it’s needed position. Flynn sighed and sucked on the cut again, then spat the blood to the ground. He pressed the already-stained cloth against the wound and held it there as he continued the walk. It was ridiculous how much a small cut could bleed if you got it in the wrong place.

When it finally seemed to be slowing down again, he tightened the knot with his teeth and hoped that would be enough pressure to keep him from bleeding all over the forest. He climbed over roots thicker than his leg that snaked into the ground and then noticed a section of soil up ahead where the patchwork of fallen leaves had covered the earth. Flynn crouched when he reached it. Here was another footprint, proving he was on the right track. Every time he found a hint that Yuri had been there, he started hoping he’d find him just around the next tree. Of course, that was too much to hope for.

He stood and stretched his arms. The sun the leaves warmed the top of his head and he knew his father would expect him home any time now. Guilt squirmed in his stomach, but he couldn’t turn back now. He was about to start walking again when something rustled in the dead leaves off to his left. Flynn froze for half a second and by the time he’d whipped around, he had an arrow notched and ready to shoot.

His nerves as tense as the bowstring, Flynn scanned the undergrowth for the source of the noise. The forest floor was covered in so many tangled roots and fallen leaves that it was hard to pinpoint the source. Leaves rustled again and his arms shook, anxious to release his arrow in anything that moved.

A squirrel darted out from under a log and then scampered up the tree. Flynn let out his held breath, but didn’t lower his bow. It hadn’t been a squirrel, he was sure of it. The sound had been more of a slithering, more like-

-like the sweep of a cloak across the leaves right behind him.

“Who’s there?!” Flynn’s heart throbbed in his throat as he spun around but all he’d seen was a glimpse of movement disappearing behind the twisted trunk of a wych elm. Had it been his imagination? He was certainly tense enough, but he was certain that had been the sound of heavy fabric dragging across dead leaves. His injured hand throbbed but he didn’t lower his weapon. One foot edged forward. His mind conjured the image of a ferocious beast, and then considered what his little arrowheads designed for squirrels would do to it. He licked his lips and edged toward the tree. Flynn didn’t want to find out what was behind it, but he also didn’t want to _not_ know.

Flynn stood beside the broad trunk of the tree, building up his nerve. With his arms steadied and his breathing under control, he whipped around the trunk. His foot came down on a branch, which spun under his boot and sent his leg careening forward. Flynn was thrown off balance and his readied arrow shot into the trees. He hit the ground hard but shoved himself upright immediately, because the thing he’d seen in the split second before falling would be on him in a moment.

Flynn reached for another arrow but his hand fell on his shoulder when his eyes took in the emptiness before him. Leaves blurred as his eyes darted around, searching for any sign of movement, but the forest was still. Flynn took deep breaths and tried to rationalize the disappearance of the humanoid figure he’d seen for a fraction of a second before he fell and lost eye-contact. The most likely explanation of that he’d imagined it in his panic. The rustling could have been a snake, and the movement could have been a swaying branch. The sun was shining and he was alone in the woods. Flynn slowly got to his feet, still looking around for another glimpse of the tall figure dressed in black that had been standing behind the tree.

But the longer he stood here freaking out over nothing, the further away Yuri got. He hurried to the tree with his arrow embedded in the trunk and pried it out. As it came out, tree sap trickled from the hole and oozed down the bumpy bark. Flynn paused to take a closer look and then brought the arrowhead to his eyes. The sap was dark red and, this close to his face, smelled of iron. Frowning, he ran his fingers over the point and pulled them away to smear sticky red fluid over his fingertips.

Part of him thought, _this is blood._

Another part thought, _don’t be ridiculous; trees don’t bleed. Ignore it and go find Yuri_.

He listened to the latter.

 

* * *

 

Yuri knew a lot about the beast. Flynn had found that out when they were seven. Yuri lived with Old Man Hanks and was helping the Scifos prepare their field for plowing in exchange for the help Flynn’s father had given Hanks the day before. Of course, since Yuri and Flynn were still too small to be any use with a plow, their job was simply to pace up and down the rows of dirt, looking for rocks to clear away.

“What should we do with all these rocks, do you think?” Yuri had the hem of his tunic pulled out to carry them.

“We’re supposed to dump them by the side of the house,” Flynn replied. He didn’t know Yuri very well, and was anxious about being alone in the field with the boy infamous throughout the village for being a hellraiser. He’d been left with the church after his parents died and only last year was the priest able to find a hopefully-permanent home for him with Hanks.

“We could do that.” Yuri crouched to grab another fist-sized rock. “Or we could keep them and build a catapult!”

Flynn gaped at him. “With what?”

“There’s some old wood behind the rectory. We could use that.”

“But that’s stealing! From priests!”

Yuri shrugged. “They’re not using it any more.”

Flynn scowled in disapproval at this and continued onward, hoping to finish cleaning this field soon. “What do you want to build a catapult for, anyway?”

“To throw the rocks, duh.”

“At what? You’re not catapulting rocks at any sheep.”

“No, silly, at the beast.”

Flynn turned his gaze toward the trees in the distance. “That doesn’t really exist though….”

“You don’t think so? What did they build the wall for, then?”

That was a good point. “Um… I don’t know.”

“I heard that a long time ago, a man took his dog into the woods to hunt for pheasants. But, there was an accident and both of them fell down a ravine. The man broke his leg and was hurt pretty bad, so he couldn’t get out, and the sides of the ravine were too steep for the dog. He called and called for help, but no one came. The were both soooo hungry, but there was nothing for them to eat. So _then_ , the starving dog turned on its master and started gnawing on his mangled leg. The man cried out but the dog was so hungry it just kept eating. Over the next few days, it ate more and more of them until the man finally died, and in is dying breath he cursed it for betraying him. Then the dog was cursed with never dying and it grew bigger than a wolf, with massive fangs and a constant, unquenchable hunger for human flesh. It’s afraid of sunlight so it lurks in the trees and waits for anyone to wander into the woods and then it attacks!”

Flynn watched Yuri tell the story with rapt attention. “Is that really true?”

Yuri shrugged. “The priest said so. I want to build a weapon because maybe one day it will be brave enough to leave the forest and we need protection.”

That wasn’t the only story Yuri knew about the beast, though. The pair of them worked together to finish clearing the field for the next two days, and then they were both loaned out to the Capel family to help them, since the mother had just given birth to a boy and couldn’t help. Over the weeks they worked together, Flynn gradually learned that Yuri may be rambunctious, but he was also kind-hearted, funny, generous, and fun to be with. Flynn also noticed a pattern in many stories Yuri had been told.

For example, the priest had informed Yuri that the beast could smell liars and might leave the forest to track down a particularly strong scent. This could also happen to boys who didn’t wash their hands properly, who didn’t go to confession regularly, who were rude to their elders, or who were generally unruly. There was only one aspect of the beast Yuri was certain on.

“Once it sniffs you out, it will never stop hunting you. It won’t rest until it slashes you open and eats your heart.”

Flynn wasn’t sure what he believed of these tales. Many of them seemed like nothing more than frightening stories to try to tame an unruly charge, and he may have discounted them entirely if he hadn’t been told similar stories by his mother. After all, even the lord never took his hunting parties into that forest. There had to be _something_ out there.

 

* * *

 

The mist was starting to roll in again. Overhead, the dying sun turned the leaves into a bloody canopy above earth so dark it was nearly black. Flynn couldn’t see more than a few fathoms ahead due to the mist filling the gaps between tree trunks.

Flynn stopped and rested his unlit lantern on a stump home to many mushrooms. He’d been putting it off while he watched the surrounding mist fade from pale gold to sickly blue as the sun set. As much as he hated to admit it, dusk had arrived. He’d promised his father he’d be home by noon. What must his father think? Did he suspect Flynn and Yuri were hidden away in each other’s embrace, shirking their duties and taking advantage of his implied consent? Was he regretting not turning Flynn in to the priest?

Flynn wanted to go back. The darker it got, the less confident he felt about his decision to go after Yuri on his own. He’d come too far to turn around without Yuri, though. He was still on the trail and hoping to catch up to him soon. Of course, he’d been hoping that for hours, and so far all he got were tantalizing hints of his recent presence. He would not leave the forest without Yuri.

An owl hooted somewhere off to his left and all around him crickets chirped their pleasure at the night. He wished he could join them, but coming darkness brought him nothing but anxiety. Chilled fingers reached into the pouch at his waist to pull out his small pieces of flint and iron. It would be better to do this before it got so dark he couldn’t see what he was doing. He opened the window of the lantern and jumped when something croaked overhead. Just a bird! His heart kept pounding over after he’d glanced up to see its silhouette on a nearby branch. The trees moaned as the wind made their branches wave. One strike on the flint - a couple sparks flew out but not enough to light the wick. He had to grip the steel tighter, which hurt his injured hand. Flynn endured the throb in his palm as he slashed the pieces together again, this time kicking out a spray of light that latched onto the candle and morphed into a flame.

Silence. The suddenness with which the crickets grew still and the trees halted their moaning startled him more than the croaking bird from before. His skin tingled like a hundred pairs of eyes were fixed on him, but his nervous glances around the stump showed nothing. It was a stupid thought, but it came to him anyway: _The forest didn’t like that_.

Flynn slid the flint back into his pouch and rubbed his fingers together to combat the cold. The forest didn’t like what? The lamp that was now glowing on the tree stump? Why would a forest care about a lantern, and more important, how did a forest care about anything? It was probably a coincidence, Flynn told himself. There were other reasons for all wildlife to grow quiet. The fact that the primary reason was ‘a predator is lurking nearby’ did not comfort him, not did that explain why the trees had fallen silent as well. Far away, something howled. A shudder raced down Flynn’s spine as he swallowed heavily. It… hadn’t exactly sounded like a wolf. That wasn’t reassuring, because he had no idea what it _did_ sound like. Something larger than a squirrel, that was sure, and he wondered if the arrows strapped to his back would be any use at all.

A cricket chirped. A few seconds later, another one joined in. Gradually, the symphony of the forest struck up again. Flynn was still peering around when he picked up the handle of the lantern, but the forest was as motionless as ever.

Except… his eyes landed on a patch of mist. The sun was setting fast and he squinted to discern what was moving. It was at least ten fathoms away, so all he could make out was a fuzzy shadow through the gloom. How long had it been there? And how close had it been before it started moving away and he finally noticed it? It was tall and thin like a human, so at first glance he’d mistaken it for a small tree in the distance, except that now it seemed to be moving away from him. With a flash of hope, he called, “Yuri?”

The shadow fell still and Flynn suddenly wished he hadn’t spoken. The handle of the lantern rattled in his shaking hand. Maybe it hadn’t heard him? The shape twisted and then twin points of light appeared, staring straight back at him. Flynn gazed back at the white gleam of eyes through the mist, his feet rooted to the forest floor. He’d wanted to know what that thing was, but now he just wanted it to go away. Moving slowly, so as not to startle it, Flynn lowered the lantern back to the stump. Then, without ever losing eye-contact with its penetrating stare, he reached to his back and pulled out his bow. Maybe it wasn’t very powerful, but he felt better with it in hand.

He licked his lips and then forced his voice to remain steady. “What do you want?” He wasn’t sure if he wanted it to answer or not.

A branch cracked in the vicinity behind him. Flynn jerked around but saw nothing, and when he turned around again the shadowy figure had vanished. This wasn’t reassuring, because as much as it bothered him, he’d prefer to know where it was.

He started to lower his bow but then another branch cracked and this time it was accompanied by the unmistakable huff of breathing. The lantern gave Flynn an island of light, but it failed to penetrate the dark bushes from which the sound had come. Leaves rustled Flynn squinted into the night. He could faintly make out a shadow set apart from the background darkness, but not make out any details. The hair on the back of his neck stood on end while his knees shook, fighting the urge to drop everything and run. Leaves crunched as heavy feet came down on them and then the warm gleam of the lantern reflected off a pair of eyes several feet above the ground. Flynn stared straight back into the eyes, subtracting the average height of a wolf from the distance these eyes were above the ground and finding a significant difference. A fog of warm breath accompanied the next pant and now his lantern shone off rows of wet teeth.

_Don’t run_ , he told himself. _Running makes you look like prey_. The thing to do when confronted by a wild predator was to make yourself look big and imposing. He sucked in air to puff out his chest, tasting a foul odour in the mist. One foot stepped back, his eyes never leaving the wolf (which was certainly not a wolf if he was being honest with himself).

A growl rumbled in through chest. Flynn took a further step back. He still had an arrow notched, but the tiny head would be so useless against the beast lurking in the shadows that he barely noticed it. It was painfully obvious that there was nothing he could do to make himself look big and intimidating to the owner of those twin mountain ranges of teeth. Any second now, it was going to charge at him and he didn’t envy his chances of fending it off hand-to-hand. The best he could do was give himself a head start.

Flynn bolted. He left his lantern behind and sprinted into the trees, leaping over logs, crashing past bushes. Thunderous footsteps crashed behind him. Maybe it was his imagination, but he swore he could feel hot breath on the back of his neck. Trees blurred as he raced past them and shadows took on sinister outlines in his split-second viewing. He dashed past another pair of eyes, fixed on him, and then another set and another until streaks of white whisked before his vision in his frantic run.

He tried to shake off his pursuer by ducking under a heavy overhanging branch, but a few seconds later her heard a crunch as it crashed right through. A tinkling noise was his only warning that water was approaching and then he leapt onto a boulder, windmilling his arms to maintain balance. He released his grip on his bow and it hit the water with a splash, but he didn’t have time to pick it off. Flynn pushed off from the slick rock and thudded to the ground on the other side of the creek. This wouldn’t slow his pursuer down, so he ignored the growing stitch in his side and kept running.

There were only a few lunges between him and those teeth, and that distance was shrinking with every passing second. He couldn’t outrun it, so when he passed a gnarled tree he jumped onto a nearby stump and pushed up leaping to grab the lowest branch. His injured hand stung while his feet kicked and scrabbled at the chunky bark. Flynn hooked his legs over the branch and then heaved himself up, feeling the swish of air from crunching jaws on the back of his neck. He jumped up before his dangling feet fell prey to those teeth and then grabbed the next branch within reach.

The tree shook as something basked against it and he clung to the branch as dead leaves and dust rained on him. Flynn grabbed another branch and used a crook in the tree as a footrest to pulled himself even higher. His cloak snagged on a rough whirl and for a few seconds he madly tugged and tried to pull free before remembering he was a human with opposable thumbs. He straddled the branch he was on and leaned down to free the thick wool from the tree. The night was so dark below the canopy that he had to fumble and feel around to figure out how it was even caught. Even then, his hands felt clumsy and numb in his panic to get loose fast.

He tugged the cloak free as the tree shook once more. Flynn grabbed a higher branch and pulled himself up, putting more and more distance between himself and the teeth. Flynn didn’t stop climbing until the tree ran out of branches solid enough to hold him, and by then he was in the thick of the canopy with leaves brushing his face.

Flynn stopped where one of the last sturdy branches met the trunk of the tree. He sat and leaned against the trunk, heaving for breath. The tree shuddered as something crashed into it and his spine chilled at the sound of splintering wood. Could it bring the tree down? He held a smaller branch to his right to stay steady and shut his eyes with a grimace as the tree shook again. There was nowhere else to run from here. If the tree came down, he was as good as dead. Flynn took a moment to try to steady his breathing and say a quick prayer, while kicking himself for not going to confession and tying up any loose strings with life before heading off into the deadly forest.

He thought of Yuri. It had been his love for Yuri that led him to this treetop above a monster in the first place. Was this the Lord’s punishment for that kiss they’d shared yesterday? Flynn doubted that. He’d never been terribly invested in the church, but he was duty-bound to attend every Sunday and certainly the priest had never said anything about the Lord punishing sinners with voracious death beasts. Still, he imagined the local priest would consider this a good start on penance for his sin. After all, every time he even thought about touching Yuri he was committing a terrible sin against the Lord and….

Flynn sighed and pulled his knees close to his chest. He tried to make himself care about the church, but he really couldn’t. Thinking you were ten feet above violent death put things into perspective and it turned out the only thing he could focus on was Yuri. Yuri was in this forest somewhere, hopefully not having nearly as bad a night as Flynn.

It had better be at least slightly unpleasant, though, because this was all his fault. Whatever Yuri hoped to find in this accursed forest, it had better be _damn_ good.

In all his wandering, he’d had time to ponder that. Just what had driven Yuri into the woods in the first place? His only guess was that he was after the lost treasure like he’d mentioned yesterday. A way for them to be together and free to live how they liked. It was such a beautiful dream, and Flynn could understand why Yuri could be so driven to find it. He just really hoped it didn’t lead to both of their deaths.

Eager to think about happier things, Flynn let himself imagine that they did find it, and they were somehow allowed to keep it instead of turning it over to Estelle’s father, and they ran off together to live in a manor of their own. Behind the closed doors of their castle, no one would ever have to know the extent of their relationship. It would be so liberating to not have to sneak around in dark stables and feel like he had a secret scorching him from the inside at all hours of the day.

He realized that the tree hadn’t shaken for a few minutes and he wondered if his visitor was gone. Barely daring to hope, he peered through the branches toward the forest floor. It was too dark to make anything out, but he heard footsteps and heavy breathing and imagined it pacing around the tree, waiting for him to come down. Flynn leaned against the trunk again and closed his eyes; looked like he was spending his night in a tree.

The branch was wide enough that he felt stable. There were enough branches surrounding him to fence him in so he was pretty sure he wouldn’t fall. He gathered his cloak over himself like a blanket and tried to get comfortable. He took one more look around and spotted a few pairs of eyes lurking in the leaves all around him. None of them seemed to be moving and he told himself that anything small enough to be up here in the treetops couldn’t be that dangerous. At any rate, it was going to be a long night.


	2. Tangled Web

Flynn was thirteen the first time he met the lord’s daughter. He’d felt very pleased with himself that day because his father said he was old enough to accompany him to the manor to help him carry the bags of wool being delivered. He’d taken a bath that morning and worn his Sunday clothes, but still felt awed and out-of-place inside the imposing manor on the hill. He would have been happy to drop off the wool at the servant’s entrance, but the lord wanted to meet with Flynn’s father to discuss matters of the village. Flynn was left standing in a hallway and warned not to wander off. Flynn waited with his hands behind his back, afraid to be found slouching in the lord’s manor in case it was taken as an offence. The warning not to wander off was unnecessary, because he was so afraid of accidentally tracking sheep manure on the pristine stone floors (even though he’d scrubbed his boots the night before) he didn’t want to walk at all.

“Good day.”

Flynn startled around to see a young girl at the end of the hall. She smiled as she approached him, her pale blue gown sweeping the stone floors. Flynn’s heart skipped a beat and he quickly bent in a bow. “G-good afternoon, my lady.” He’d seen the lord’s daughter from a distance before but had never prepared himself for the eventuality of speaking to her. He wasn’t sure if he was even allowed, but the only way to escape would be to run away, and he was certain he wasn’t allowed to do that.

“You’re the bailiff’s son, aren’t you?”

Flynn straightened up but kept his eyes to the ground. He was taller than her, which made it difficult to show proper deference. “That’s correct, my lady.”

She covered her mouth in a giggle. “I’m not a lady, silly. I’d be called madam, but you can call me Estelle.”

“Ah… I apologize, ma’am.”

“You’re funny. So do you know what our fathers are talking about?”

He risked raising his eyes. “You don’t know?”

She sighed and wandered toward the window near the door. “Nobody tells me anything.”

“Well… I think they’re discussing what percentage of the wheat harvest will be required for tithe this autumn.”

“Oh, I thought it might be exciting stuff.” She folded her arms on the windowsill and peered through the glass. “Nothing exciting ever happens here.”

Flynn noticed her glum face and felt compelled to try to cheer her up. “Sometimes exciting things happen. Just last week, for example, my friend tried to milk a goat but it kicked him in the face and ran for freedom. It took almost half an hour for us to chase it down and…” he shuffled his feet on the floor, realizing how dumb this story must seem to a girl wearing a dress worth more than his cottage. “Anyway, we caught it.”

Estelle turned from the window with a smile. “That does sound exciting. Have you ever been in the forest?”

His eyebrows rose. “The old forest? Of course not. I mean, ah… I haven’t, ma’am.”

“Oh… I thought maybe you were allowed in. It makes sense that you’re not, though, since you’d be in danger from the beast, too.”

“You know about the beast, too?” He’d thought it was just a rumour spread to the village children.

Estelle bobbed her head. “Oh, yes. My nanny told me about it when I was little.”

“If I may ask… what were you told about it?” 

“ _Well_ …” an excited gleam came to her eyes. “They say that a long time ago, there was a woman who wanted to marry her true love. But there was a knight who’d fallen for her, and the woman’s father demanded she marry the knight instead. The woman refused, even though the knight was very rich, because she thought he was an unpleasant person. So in the night, she ran away with her poor beloved, deep into the forest to hide. They build themselves a little cottage where they could live safe and happily away from her father and the knight. But then, the knight sent out a party of hunting dogs and tracked them down in the forest. He kicked in the door of the cottage-” Estelle punched her fist to demonstrate, “and slaughtered her beloved right in front of her. The knight demanded she return with him to be his bride, but she was so grief-stricken by the death of her beloved that she took a knife, murdered him right then and there, and then slit her own throat, too. Her heart was so full of love that the devil wouldn't take her, but because she’d killed a man, she couldn’t go to heaven.  So, her soul was trapped in the forest. Now she roams through the trees, sad and lonely and envious of the living - and _especially_ of those who get to be with their true loves.”

“The beast is a woman?”

“According to the story, at least. This happened a really long time ago, so no one remembers who she was, only that people who wander into the forest are horribly killed by whatever dwells inside.”

“Wow… I wonder if that’s true.”

Estelle shrugged. “The only way to find out would be to explore the woods yourself. I’d be interested, but… I don’t know if I’m brave enough to wander through a cursed forest.”

Flynn was at a loss for a response, because agreeing with her would be insulting her by calling her a coward, but saying she was surely brave would be disagreeing and you weren’t supposed to contradict a noble. Luckily, he was saved from answering by the door opening and his father exiting. Flynn gave another bow and then left with his father.

* * *

 

Flynn brushed a spider off his arm when he woke up. He’d been dreaming about being chased through a blizzard by a sheep with fangs, intent on skinning him alive and wearing it as a cloak. It couldn’t have been a very long dream, though, because he knew it had taken hours for him to fall asleep up here and it was still barely dawn. He yawned and stretched his arms, then grabbed a nearby branch to sit up and pop his back. His neck ached from from the awkward sleeping position and his stomach rumbled.

Flynn opened the pouch hanging from his belt and pulled out the last of his food. It was going to be a hungry day. Flynn was no stranger to hunger, though he’d never felt it at this time of year. It usually didn’t kick in until late winter, when supplies were running low. He couldn’t complain though, he thought as he shoved day-old bread in his mouth. His father’s position gave him more privileges than most in the village. Yuri had gone hungry more often than he ever had.

As he chewed on the hard bread, he massaged his hand and untied the cloth tied around it, which was now stained with dark brown splotches. He pulled it away and licked his palm after swallowing his bread. Spitting out the taste of copper, he frowned as fresh blood rose to spill from the cut. How could it still be bleeding more than a day after receiving it? He thought he’d only scraped the outer layer of skin, but it must be deeper than he thought. No wonder it still dimly throbbed. With nothing else to use, he re-tied the dirty cloth around his hand.

With his meagre breakfast finished, Flynn resigned himself to beginning the day’s hike. Yuri had been missing for a full day now, and Flynn tried not to get disheartened. He straightened his cloak and began the slow, stiff climb to the forest floor. As he went, his eyes and ears were alert for any sign of the beast that had chased him up here last night. He saw nothing, but the morning mist made it hard to see clearly. At least the sun had risen to fill the wood with pale brown light.

His feet hit the leaves with a crunch and his muscles tensed, ready for attack. None came. Flynn let out a breath that joined the mist and hoped this silence meant the beast was gone. His mind raised the possibility that it had actually been nothing more than a wolf, and in the dark his fear had transformed it into a monster. Then Flynn turned to the tree and saw the deep gouges slashed through the bark, as high up as the lowest level of branches. The bark around the claw marks was stained red from the odd sap that had oozed from them like bloody wounds. Flynn trailed his fingers over one set of foot-long parallel marks and tried to imagine a simple wolf making them. He suddenly felt a strong desire to keep moving and get out of this place.

First he backtracked. It was easy to follow the path he’d made last night, because the broken branches marked a clear trail. He followed the tinkle of the creek and arrived on the rocky edge of the water. His bow was caught by a boulder, snapped in two. Flynn picked up the waterlogged pieces, still linked by the string. The wood had snapped cleanly in two, and he didn’t see any way to salvage it. Groaning in frustration, he tossed the useless pieces into a bush. Fat lot of good it had done him. At least he still had his knife, so he didn’t feel _completely_ defenceless… just mostly.

He hopped the brook and followed the trail of broken branches and disturbed leaves until he found his lantern. It sat on the tree stump where he’d left it, the inside a mess of melted wax. Flynn picked it up with a sigh; what a waste of a candle. He only had one more, but he really hoped to find Yuri today and get out of this rotten forest. He tied the lantern to his belt and started walking in the direction he’d intended to go last night. A few minutes later, he spotted what he’d been looking for: a boot print in the mud. He was still on the trail.

The forest was still, but after last night, it felt deceptive. His stomach growled and Flynn wondered if monsters lurking behind the trees could hear it. When his trail took him past a rotting log covered in mushrooms, he had to pause and consider how hungry he was. He recognized those mushrooms as the type they often gathered for extra food, but never from this forest. Considering the strange, blood-red liquid that oozed from the trees, Flynn was uncertain about eating anything growing in here. Ignoring his empty stomach, he kept walking.

Yuri’s path took him across a bend in the creek and through a patch of clover. He passed mossy logs and boulders covered in lichen, and every few minutes who glanced up at movement in the mist. Flynn told himself the shapes moving, just far enough away that they were smudges in the bluish morning fog, were deer. He wasn’t sure how much he believed that, but they never came close so hopefully it wouldn’t be an issue.

He entered a grove of birch trees, their trunks sickly white and covered in black whirls that looked like eyes, watching him pick his way around prickly bushes. Wind blew, dragging dead leaves over each other and making the breeze rattle like a dying breath. A chipmunk rustled in a bush, and then a much more violent shaking got his attention.

A short tree nearly engulfed in ivy rattled its leaves and waved it branches. Flynn froze, watching it carefully before getting any closer. When nothing burst out to eat him, he edged toward it with his hand on his knife. Closer, he made out a flutter of black and white feathers. Calming down, he rounded the tree to see past the obscuring leaves.

Just above his head, a magpie thrashed in a spiderweb. Flynn didn’t want to imagine the spider that had spun a web with such thick and tough strands, which wrapped around the bird’s wings. Feeling bad for it, he pulled out his knife.

“Shhh, calm down.” Flynn rested one hand on the bird’s back, trying to still it so he didn’t accidentally cut it. The bird seemed unhappy with his touch, but he held it firmly as it shrieked its displeasure. The knife easily slashed through the silk, and as soon as it was free, he let go.

The bird shook its wings and fluttered to a higher branch, watching him carefully. Flynn was getting pretty tired of being watched in the forest, even by something as innocent looking as this magpie. It cocked its black-feathered head. It’s chest was snowy white, and iridescent blue edged its wings.

“You don’t have a friend around, do you?” Flynn said to the bird. “I’d prefer to see two of you. One for sorrow, two for joy and all that. I think I’ve had quite enough of sorrow.”

The bird squawked, “Nope, just little old me.”

Flynn jolted back. “You can talk!”

“Can I? I never noticed.”

“Magpies aren’t supposed to talk….”

“Nobody ever told me that.”

“Probably because the other magpies couldn’t talk.”

“They talk to  _me_. Thank you for rescuing me, by the way. I really do hate spiders.” The bird swept one wing around to its chest and gave a little bow. “My name is Judith. What shall I call my heroic saviour?”

“It’s… Flynn.” His hand started to move forward, but stopped. How did you shake hands with a bird?

“You shouldn’t be in this forest, you know. It’s not safe.”

“I’m aware. I was nearly eaten last night… I think.”

“Hm, I can relate.” She bobbed her head toward the tattered remains of spider silk.

“When you say it’s not safe, are you only talking about the beast?”

“Beast?” she cocked her head to the side. “What do you mean?”

“Well… it’s a monster that dwells in this forest. If you live here, you must have heard about it.”

“It’s possible, but maybe we have a different name for it. What does it look like?”

Every description he’d ever heard flashed through his head, and the only thing any of them had in common were that they were all unpleasant. “I’m not sure, actually. No one really knows what it looks like. I think it’s a giant wolf-like beast that attacked me last night, but…” he considered the shadowy figure he’d seen through the mist and the spectre he’d glimpsed for half a second behind the tree. “It might be something completely different.”

“I don’t know about any giant, hulking monsters in this forest. Too bad, it sounds exciting.”

Flynn frowned. “I think I could do without the hulking monsters, having seen one myself.” He wondered if Yuri had encountered anything like he had, and if Yuri was still determined to find his hidden treasure or this whole thing was running in a circle as Yuri tried to find his way home. It was so frustrating that he was always just behind Yuri; close enough to follow his train but not near enough to actually see a trace of him. Then something else occurred to him. “Hang on, you say you haven’t seen any monsters, correct? Then why do you say this forest isn’t safe?”

“More than monsters can harm you, you know. The forest hasn’t eaten in a long time.”

His brow wrinkled. “The… forest? How does a forest eat?”

“The same way everybody else does, I imagine. You ought to leave before it gobbles you up. What brings you here?”

“I’m looking for someone. My…” he hesitated over what word to describe Yuri. Lover? He shook those thoughts away. “Friend. My friend came in here looking for something, and now I’m looking for him. You haven’t seen him, have you?”

“Another person?” She cocked her head. “Not that I’ve seen. I haven’t seen any other humans in this forest in my whole life.”

“Ah… well, thank you anyway.”

“Not at all! I should be thanking you. You saved my life, after all. Is there any way I can repay you?”

Flynn considered for a moment and then shrugged. “I’m not sure.” He considered sending a message back home to let his father know where he and Yuri were, but he doubted his father would be willing to speak with a magpie. It would probably do nothing but frighten him. Sending a letter would be convenient, but he’d never learned to write and nobody he would send it to knew how to read. “I can’t think of anything I need, unless you can take me to Yuri.”

“Ooh, too bad. I guess this is farewell, then. I’ll keep my eye out for your friend, though!”

“Thank you! Uh, safe flights.”

“Oh, and just a word for the wise. I’d keep your light off, if I were you. It’s going to attract unwanted attention.” Judith squawked and then took to the air. Flynn watched her fly away with envy, wishing he had wings to take him up above the trees and away from this forest.

Flynn started walking again and found himself wishing he’d asked Judith to stay with him. He didn’t know what help a bird could be, but having someone to talk to could steady his nerves, even if that someone wasn’t what he normally thought of as a someone. Overheard, silhouettes of bird stood out as they flew across a sky as white as bone, and he wondered if they could talk, too. Maybe all birds could talk; he'd just never listened.

As he walked, he considered her parting words. His lantern still hung from his waist, but it wasn’t currently lit. He supposed she had meant that he shouldn’t light it this evening, but that thought worried him. He needed light when the sun went down, because stumbling through the forest in the dark would do nothing but get him lost or sprain his ankle. Although… he couldn’t help but recall how the woods had gone deathly still last night the moment he lit his lantern. He’d had a thought: _the forest didn’t like that_. Shortly after, that beast had appeared to chase him up a tree. Perhaps Judith was right about carrying a light through the forest. As dangerous as it would be to stumble blindly in the dark, perhaps it would be even more dangerous to light his lantern. He had no idea how much longer this journey through the woods was going to take, though, and maybe he’d be lucky enough to catch up to Yuri later today. That still left the walk home, but he hoped it would be safer with two of them.

Ahead, a brook babbled over rocks. He ground sloped down into soft mud and Flynn smiled at the sight of clear footprints along the bank, the impression of the boots still crisp. Yuri couldn’t have been here more than a few hours ago and Flynn fought the urge to shout Yuri’s name. He wasn’t keen on drawing too much attention to himself in this forest. Flynn followed the course of the stream and added his own bootprints over Yuri’s. He could tell from the distance between them that Yuri had been walking leisurely, so Flynn quickened his pace and tried to close the distance between them.

When the day had warmed toward noon, Flynn spotted something on the other side of the brook. He slowed his face as he approached and came to a stop next to a rotting log half in the water, dead leaves clumping along its length. About fifty feet from the edge of the water was a house. It had stone walls overgrown with ivy and wildflowers grew from its thatched roof. At one point, a dirt path had led from the door to the brook, but it had mostly been retaken by long grass and weeds. Could someone still live there? Flynn turned his head to follow the course of Yuri’s footsteps along the river and then looked back at the cottage. His stomach growled and he considered the few bites of food he had left that were all he had to tide himself over until he got back to the village, and his quiver of arrows felt extra heavy with the knowledge they were useless without a bow. Even if no one lived there now, they may have left supplies behind.

He hopped over the brook and approached the wooden door of the hut. Slender white birch trees surrounded the clearing and wildflowers took advantage of the sun to spread out around the building. It looked like it had been here for many years and the hinges creaked as he pushed it open. The cottage had no windows, so he left the door open to let in a shaft of light. Dust hovered in the beam of light and he breathed in must and dirt.

“Hello?” Flynn didn’t expect a response, and he didn’t receive one. It was a one-room cottage with a sleeping area in the back corner. In the middle of the room was a solid oak table covered in dust, and a stone hearth took up much of the left wall. He looked up, but the light from the door wasn’t enough to dispel the darkness covering the underside of the thatch and he saw nothing but black. Then he looked down and his stomach turned. The dusty wooden floor was stained dark brown in roughly-circular pattern about the same diameter as he was tall. Blood. He sniffed the air but it held nothing but dust and old wood. There was no sign of a body,

Against one wall was a wooden chest. In his own home, that was where supplies were kept, so he approached it and hoped for the best. Decaying wood splintered under his fingers and cobwebs ripped apart as he pried it open. Something moved and he flinched before realizing it was just a spider scurrying away from the sudden light. In the bottom of the chest, he found scraps of fabric mostly eaten by moths, a set of wooden cutlery caked in dust, and two thick silver coins. Flynn picked them and up squinted at the tarnished coins; he didn’t recognize the pictures printed on the back. He considered pocketing them, because silver was silver, but he felt uneasy. Though the cottage had clearly been abandoned, he couldn’t shake the feeling that he wasn’t alone in here. It would be best, he decided, to leave everything where it was and return to Yuri’s path.

As he straightened up, he heard a voice.

“Is someone there?”

Flynn whirled around, but the cottage was just as empty as before. “Hello?

“I’m here,” came a woman’s voice. “Is someone up there? Please, help.”

He pinpointed the voice as coming from the floor. Flynn left the trunk and followed the sound toward the back corner of the room until he spotted the outline of a trapdoor. “Are you down there?”

“Yes!” the woman’s voice came. “Please, I was locked down here and I can’t get out.”

Flynn dropped to his knees. “Don’t worry, ma’am, I’ll help you.” There was a bolt across the trapdoor that had rusted shut, so Flynn pulled out his knife and began scraping it away. “How did you get down there?”

“Th-there was a beast.” He could hear tears in her voice. “I was living here with my husband, but when the beast attacked…. He told me to hide down here and he’d fight it off. But that was ever so long ago and I’m afraid that the fight didn’t go in his favour.”

Flynn thought about the blood all over the floor and cringed. He concentrated on chiselling away the rust that kept the latch stubbornly in place. As he worked, he wondered what he was going to do with the girl once he freed her. She could hardly stay here alone, and he couldn’t send her back to the village on her own. He supposed she’d have to come with him until he found Yuri, but he was already out of food and would have to resort to scavenging from the forest for tomorrow. Bringing an extra person with him would just make everything more difficult. Maybe if he was lucky, she had some supplies down in the cellar with her. That was unlikely, though. Based on the decay up here, he doubted any food stores could have lasted… this long….

Flynn’s knife fell still. He’d been working for almost ten minutes, and finally he’d made enough progress on the latch that he was pretty sure he could tug it open by now. However, his hands made no movement for the trapdoor. Quietly, he asked, “How long have you been down there?”

“I don’t know,” her frightened voice replied. “So long. I want to get out, please.”

Flynn took a slow, considering breath. “Are you comfortable down there? I mean, do you have supplies, food?”

“No, please, it’s just dark and cold down here. Please let me out.”

Flynn breathed deeply. This cottage was in such a state of neglect that it was obvious no one had lived here for years - maybe more than a decade. Judith’s words came back to him: _I haven’t seen any other humans in this forest in my whole life._ How long was a magpie’s lifespan? At least a few years. She should have seen people living in this cottage in the past few years, but she hadn’t. “I’m sorry,” Flynn said softly. “But I don’t think I can let you out.”

“What? No, please, you have to let me out! It’s so dark down here, so cold… I just want to get out. Please!”

Flynn looked away from the trapdoor, feeling sick. Was this the right decision? He couldn’t just abandon a girl to death because he was nervous, but he had an awful feeling that what he was talking to, if it had ever been a young woman hiding from a predator, wasn’t quite that anymore.

Movement in the corner of his eye distracted him, and his head automatically turned to it. He peered up into the dark shadows of the ceiling, looking for what had moved, only to find that the ceiling was now moving. No… it wasn’t the ceiling at all. Flynn’s heart plummeted to his stomach as he realized he wasn't looking at shadows. It was spiders. Hundreds - possibly thousands - of black bodies clinging to the underside of the thatch. When he’d arrived, they’d been so still in their overlapping blanket that he’d seen nothing by the blackness of their bodies.

They were moving now, though, toward the wall…. He turned his head the other way and saw a line of them pouring to the floor like a black waterfall. On the dusty floor, the tide streamed straight toward him. And then he looked down, and realized that they’d been streaming toward him for some time now. Thick strands of milky-white silk wrapped around his calves as spiders, their bodies the size of walnuts, scuttled around and over them. With every second, more spiders reached him, crawling up his legs and spreading the silk farther. They were working on his knees now, but with every second, new spiders arrived to add their effort and speed up the process.

Flynn shouted and slashed his knife down on the nearest spider. Dozens of legs scurried away, but he managed to pin one to the wood. The spider wriggled with a single leg caught under the blade. He lifted the knife and it scuttled away. Flynn turned his attention to his legs, where he couldn’t even see his trousers anymore beneath the coating of silk and spider. He slammed his knife into the space between his calves, slicing through tough bands of silk. Spiders swarmed up the blade toward his wrist and he shook them off with a shout.

“What’s happening?” the voice below the trapdoor asked. “Are you letting me out?”

Flynn was too distracted to worry about her - it - whatever - right now. The spiders were climbing his thighs and he thrashed and twisted, using his arms to sweep them away. He didn’t dare touch them with his bare hands, because he didn’t trust them not to be poisonous. He twisted his legs, tugging them apart. With a few more slices from his knife, he managed to rip the silk completely and wasted no time in leaping to his feet. The spiders were still pouring down the wall - on both sides of the cottage now - so that the underside of the thatch was no plainly visible. Flynn staggered forward, feeling bulbous bodies burst beneath his boots. The silk hung from his calves and only his flailing arms kept the spiders from crawling under his shirt. The door out of the cottage still hung open, but there was a sea of writhing legs separating him from it. Sunlight shone on green grass and Flynn locked his eyes on it, refusing to look at the moving floor as he made a run for it.

“Wait!” the voice from the trapdoor called. “Come back! Please don’t leave me here!”

The floor crunched below his boots as he ran, flailing, toward the sunlight. As soon as he cleared the door, he threw himself into the grass and rolled, arms sweeping across his body as he thrashed. He was certain he could still feel hundreds of tiny legs crawling over him, and it was a couple of minutes before he calmed down enough to stop moving.

Flynn sat up slowly, panting for breath. First he looked over himself and his stomach twisted at the mangled spider bodies crushed into his trousers. Looking up, surviving spiders darted through the weeds toward the open cottage door. “Good riddance,” Flynn muttered at them as they fled the sunlight. He brushed dirt and dry grass from his arms and looked away from the cottage, back to the stream, where a thin figure stood in the shade of the trees, watching him.

Flynn’s heart stopped but then sharp claws pierced his scalp and a heavy weight pressed down on his head. Panicked, Flynn yelped and batted his hands at his head. His fingers hit feathers and then the weight left, seconds before a familiar magpie landed on a rock a few feet away.

“Judith! You startled me!” His gaze turned back to the stream, but the figure was gone. Had it really been there? Shadows draped the trees and some of them did appear vaguely humanoid. He was on edge from the spiders, so maybe….?

Judith swallowed a spider and then shook her feathers. “Oh, yuck. These are nasty.”

Flynn rested a hand on his head. He was pretty sure he had a few pricks of blood on his scalp from where her talons had crashed into him. “What did you do that for?”

“Oh? Excuse me, I thought you wouldn’t want a spider crawling in your hair.”

Flynn couldn't suppress a shudder. “I see. Thank you, then.”

“You didn’t let any of them bite you, did you?”

Flynn inspected his hands, which were the only parts of exposed skin. “I don’t think so. Why? What would have happened?”

The magpie cocked her head. “I’m not sure… but I don’t think it would be very good. I don’t like this cottage. None of us do. There’s a reason none of the other creatures of the forest have made a home there.”

“A warning might have been nice,” Flynn grumbled. He couldn’t shake the feeling that there were still bugs crawling all over him. The prickling of the grass kept making his heart skip a beat. “You could have told me before you said goodbye the first time that there’s an evil cottage up ahead and not to go in it.”

“Should I have? I’m sorry. I didn’t think you would be stupid enough to enter a place giving off such unpleasant vibes.”

“Vibes? It just looked like an empty cottage.”

“Hmm, I have heard that humans are pretty blind, but I didn’t realize it was this bad.”

“Now you know. So is there anything else I should know?”

“I _did_ tell you to keep your light down.”

“Yes, I recall.” But since the sun was still high in the sky, he didn’t think that would be relevant for many hours yet. “Do you know what’s in the cottage?”

“You tell me; I’ve never been inside.”

Flynn looked over his shoulder. The moving floor had disappeared now and from here, the darkened interior sat still and innocent. “There was a girl in the cellar. Rather, the voice of a girl. She wanted me to open a trapdoor and let her out.”

“Did you?”

“No.” Flynn turned his head back to Judith. “Do you think I should have?”

“Oooh, that sounds fun. I wonder what it was?”

“What if I was wrong? What if it _was_ a real person, and I was her only chance at rescue?”

“You could always go back and check.”

Flynn sighed and began picked away the spider silk still clinging to his legs. “I’m lucky to have made it out without getting bitten the first time. It would be foolish to return. And if what’s down there isn’t human… I can’t imagine releasing it would do me any good. The longer I sit here, the farther ahead Yuri is getting. No more delays.” He stood and brushed the last of the silk away. “Thank you for taking care of the one in my hair. I suppose our debt is squared now, isn’t it?”

“Sure. Now we’ve both saved the other from a spider. Good luck on your search! I’ll keep my eyes peeled for any other humans in the forest, just in case.” She flapped twice and took to the air.

Flynn took one last glance at the cottage, sighed, and then returned to the stream to follow Yuri’s footprints.

* * *

 

The winter Flynn was fifteen gave them more snow than he could remember seeing before. They spent most of their time huddled in their homes, filling the tiny huts with smoke from the fire. Flynn’s family was lucky, because their house was bigger than most and they had a separate room to house their animals. Next door, Karol’s family crowded in beside the chickens and pigs. Looking back, Flynn wondered if this was the winter that had started him down the path of thinking of Yuri as more than a friend, because during the frigid nights, Flynn’s father brought Yuri in from the stable and let him sleep in the main house. Flynn slept huddled close to Yuri, sharing each other’s warmth, and came to associate Yuri’s closeness with comfort. By the time spring arrived, he found himself unhappy that the nights were warming up because it meant Yuri would go back to the stable with the sheep.

On a blistery morning, Karol came running into Flynn’s house in panic. “Flynn! Flynn, I need your help!”

Flynn looked up from the rope he was carefully weaving together. “What’s wrong?”

Karol clutched his head. “I made a mistake. I was talking to Yuri in your stable but then I accidentally left the door open when we left and now a few of the sheep got out. I don’t know where they are!”

Flynn put the rope on the floor and rose from his stool. “It’s all right. I’ll help you look for them.” He grabbed an already-made length of rope hanging by the door and put on his winter cloak.

Flynn had thought they couldn’t possibly have gotten that far, but somehow sheep still surprised him. Sometimes he really hated these stupid animals, but then he pulled his wool cloak tighter against the cold and remembered why he liked them. The fact that they were white didn’t endear them to him on this morning, though. He and Karol followed tracks away from the stable, until they lost them in the mess of other animal tracks. With the wind stinging his face and the thought of the warm fire at home hot on his mind, Flynn led Karol out of the village and into the broad fields between the old forest and the road. In the summer, they let the sheep graze out here, but in winter it was nothing but a hilly expanse of white with brown weeds sticking through.

“I really hope the sheep are ok.” Karol struggled to make it through the two feet of snow. “What if they wandered close to the forest?”

“I don’t think they’d go in.” The wind was now whipping them straight on the face and snow fell into his boots and began melting around his ankles.

“What if the monster comes _out_ though?” Karol looked to the snow-decked trees with anxiety. “Maybe it will… I don’t know… burrow through the snow to avoid the light and then spring up out of the ground and eat the sheep whole! Or us!”

Flynn tried not to laugh at him. “I really don’t think we need to worry about that. What kind of monster do you think it is, anyway?”

“My mother said it’s a horrible creature with pincers and too many legs and even more eyes. When you go into the forest, you’ll think you’re all alone and then suddenly you hear a rustle in the leaves above you. Then you look up and see all its eyes peering down at you, and before you can run it drops straight down.” Karol waved his hands around to demonstrate. “Then it wraps you up in its arms and starts drinking your blood while you’re still alive.” He shuddered with a wince. “I’d never want to meet _that_.”

Flynn watched a clump of snow topple from a tree in the woods and wondered if some animal had disturbed it. Whatever it was, it probably hadn’t been a giant spider monster. “I don’t think we have to worry about that. Look, there they are!” Huddled next to a bush were a pair of sheep, munching on the few leaves remaining. “What do you two think you’re doing out here?” The sheep bleated piteously at him. They were probably unhappy with being out in the cold, too. “Alright, you dummies, let’s go home.” He looped the end of his rope around the larger sheep’s neck and gave a gentle tug. With a bit of coaxing, he got it to leave the relative shelter of the bush and the smaller one followed suit.

“Dumb sheep,” Karol grumbled as they trudged through the snow back home. “If they wander away, why do we have to go after them? I bet they’re doing it on purpose. They _know_ we always have to go after them if they wander off.”

Flynn laughed and looked down at the fluffy wool he was leading. “I don’t know if they’re cunning enough for that. It is frustrating, but it’s not an option to abandon them.” Part of him wished he could be the type of person who gave up on a stray sheep in favour of staying inside where it was warm and dry, but a stronger part of him was glad he wasn’t. It did put a depressing tinge to his future, though, and he wondered if he’d spend the rest of his life chasing down the dumb things.

Yuri met them at the edge of the village. “Hail icicles, well met. Cold enough for you?” Considering his nose was red as an apple, it was clearly cold enough for him.

“Now you show up. Where we you when Karol needed help fetching the sheep?”

Yuri stepped up behind Karol and wrapped his cloak around the smaller boy. “I was chopping wood for Hanks. Surely you’re capable of fetching sheep without my wise guidance.”

They led the sheep back to the stable and Flynn made sure to shut the door tight. Then he led the others into his warm, smoky cottage. Flynn returned to his stool and rope, while Yuri got down on the floor with Karol to play with some wooden soldiers Yuri had whittled for him last winter. Flynn smiled as he watched them play on the dirt floor. There would always be wayward sheep, but there would also always be a warm home and family to come back to.

* * *

 

The sun was lowering in the sky. Flynn glanced up with a sigh and knew he was going to be spending another night in the forest. He wondered if his father was more worried or angry at this point. Both he and Yuri had been gone for almost two full days now, and their missed chores back home must be causing trouble for everyone. Flynn was starting to wish he’d never started this stupid quest because it was just causing problems for other people and nearly getting him killed. If Yuri got himself killed in this forest, it would serve him right for entering in the first place. Flynn would have turned back by now if he hadn’t already come so far, and he was too stubborn to give up after all the stress he’d already been through.

His path was taking him uphill. The stream still trickled along beside him, and the mud with clear footprints had given way to rocky ground. Every now and then Flynn found some trace of Yuri in a broken branch or a scuff on a boulder. As the sun set, the forest started to get chilly again and he pulled his cloak tighter around himself. His feet hurt from the constant hiking of the past two days, and his stomach moaned for sustenance. Flynn was used to going hungry, but usually it was only in the winter when there was no strenuous work to do outside. Hiking on an empty stomach was making him dizzy. At least the stream meant he had a supply of water to keep his throat from going parched, even if he did have to struggle to find a drink that wasn’t full of decaying leaves drifting downstream. All he wanted was to find Yuri, punch him in the face, and then hold him tight so the idiot could never wander away again.

Pessimism asked why he was even trying so hard to save Yuri. What did he hope to get out of it? Even if he and Yuri returned home safely, they could still never be together. They were going to spend the rest of their lives tilling the land and tending the sheep in this village, where the parish church loomed over them all. Soon, Flynn would get married. He wasn’t sure to whom yet, but his father had already subtly started hinting how useful it would be to have grandchildren in the house to help with the chores. He and Yuri would never be together, so he might as well keep his feelings locked inside forever and ignore them until they faded away. Part of him railed against that, but it was the stupid romantic part that dreamed of running away into the night with Yuri by his side, no matter how illogical that idea was. There was no point holding a candle for someone you could never be seen with, so he’d just find Yuri, drag his sorry arse back to the village, and forget about it. That kiss they’d shared the other day was to be a one-time thing.

The splashing of the brook was getting louder and Flynn surmised that a waterfall was up ahead. He wouldn’t be surprised, considering the slope he was now climbing. Sure enough, another bend of stream took him to a sheer shelf of rock about twenty feet high, its stratified side covered in grass, roots, and dirt. The stream tumbled over it in a white spray before pooling at the base and trickling on. The stream was only about two feet wide at this point, so the waterfall was far from impressive. What did catch his eye was the crevice cutting into the rock just to the side of the water. It was as wide as two men standing abreast at the base, and slowly narrowed until the sides met at a point fifteen feet up. Around the entrance, the ground was damp earth which held a familiar set of footprints. Flynn wasn’t even surprised to see that the steps led into the crevice.

Swallowing, Flynn approached the dark opening. After his experience in the cottage, he was more hesitant to enter a dark and dreary place. The sun was setting behind the rock, though, so he could barely see more than a few feet into the crevice before it blended into shadows.

“Yuri?” he called softly. He checked the ground again, but there was no mistaking the footprints leading in. “Are you there?”

Flynn held his breath, and then finally he heard a groan. He wasn’t sure if he felt relief that he’d found Yuri or regret that he had to enter this cave. “Are you hurt?” The groan had bounced around the walls so much it was impossible to tell how far away the groan had come from.

“F…Flynn?” came a small voice, clearly pained. “My… my leg….”

Damn. Getting him out of the forest would take forever if he couldn’t walk, plus Flynn couldn’t punch him in the face if he was already injured. It also meant Yuri probably couldn’t walk out of the crevice on his own. “Stay there, Yuri. I’ll come get you.” He was about to enter the crevice, but his skin crawled at the thought of how many bugs might be linings the damp walls. He wasn’t going to fall for that one twice. Judith had warned him about using his lantern, but the risk of attracting attention in the cave was outweighed by the risk of going blind into a potentially dangerous area, where Yuri had already gotten hurt.

He untied his lantern from his belt and set it on a rock by the waterfall, then reached into his pouch to find a spare candle and his flint. Just as his fingers closed around the stone, a sharp pain lanced through his palm. Flynn yanked his hand from the bag and looked down at his palm to find a large, black spider scuttling across his fingers. Flynn shook his hand with a yelp and then stomped the bug into the ground, but the damage had been down. He turned his attention back to his palm, where a red blister was already swelling next to the blood-stained bandage.

His hand shook and his heart hammered as the dizziness from not eating all day morphed into a thicker wave that rocked around his head. The world spun, his breathing came fast, and he collapsed to the ground.


	3. Like a Rabbit in a Net

Flynn met Estelle several times over the years. Whenever he joined his father on a visit to the lord’s manor, she always seemed to sense his presence and seek him out. Every meeting invariably left Flynn feeling unwashed and slovenly in front of her beautiful dresses and delicately styled hair, but she never seemed to mind if he smelled like sheep. Flynn liked Estelle. She was a lot easier to talk to than he’d expect from a noble. Though he couldn’t relate to her life in the manor, he enjoyed hearing about it. Stories of balls and lavish parties sounded like something from a fairytale. For her part, she was fascinated with his life in the village and asked constant questions about the care and keeping of animals.

On a warm spring day when Flynn was seventeen, he met her again on the village green. Flynn nearly crashed into her, because he wasn’t looking where he was going due to his focus being on the struggling ferret in his arms.

“Hello!” Estelle said when Flynn stopped short a few inches from her. “My goodness, what’s that in your arms?”

“He’s a ferret.” Flynn held the squirming animal against his chest. His forearms had already been scratched by its little claws, but he wasn’t going to let it go. “Slippery little guy. He escaped earlier, so I’m just bringing him back to the warren now.”

“Which warren?” Estelle began walking alongside him as Flynn crossed the green.

“There’s a rabbit warren near the church. They keep destroying the vegetable garden so we’re going to drive them out.” As they rounded the church building, the warren came into view. A low rise of grass behind the church was surrounded by men and women carefully setting up nets.

“So how does the ferret factor into this?”

“Well, when a rabbit is scared, it runs into its tunnels and we can’t get to them. So in order to lure them out, we send some ferrets down the holes and into their home. The ferrets rile them up and the rabbits come running out of the holes, into our waiting nets. Then we’ll have rabbit stew for the next few days.” Flynn smiled at that; meat so rarely featured in his diet.

Estelle didn’t find the thought of rabbit stew pleasing. She pouted when they reached Flynn’s father, who took the struggling ferret from Flynn’s arms. “The poor rabbits,” she said. “They’re just minding their own business, and then a scary monster comes into their homes and drives them into a net.”

“I suppose it isn’t very fun for the rabbits.” He watched his father carry the ferret to a group of men holding three other squirming animals. “But the rabbits eat our crops, without which, we’d starve.”

“Oh… I suppose you’re right. I’m really fortunate that I never have to worry about where food comes from.”

Flynn glanced toward the manor on the hill. “It must be nice. What are you doing down here, anyway?”

“My father came to speak with the priest. I saw all of you gathered on the green down here and asked if I could come look.”

“Well, now you’re getting the chance to learn about rabbiting. Oh, I have to go. I need to man one of the nets at the exit hole.”

Instead of saying farewell, she followed him to the hole in the earth. Flynn took a net from the man at the hole nearby and crouched, placing the neck of the net over the opening and holding tight.

“Ready?” Flynn’s father called on the other side of the warren. “Go!”

The four ferrets were released into the warren. Flynn braced himself as elsewhere around the warren, small bodies were started to zip out of the holes. Seconds later, a rabbit darted out of his and smacked into the net. Flynn moved fast before the kicking, panicking animal could escape. One hand gripped its thrashing legs and with the other, he gripped its neck. With one firm jerk, he yanked the legs back and snapped the neck with a pop. Only when he’d set the now-dead rabbit aside and positioned his net over the hole again to catch the next one did he glance up to see Estelle’s face.

“I’m sorry. I should have warned you.”

“No, I… I should have realized… you did say you’re hunting them.” She chewed her lip and surveyed the scene. Everyone around the warren had a new rabbit every minute, and they all wordlessly snapped the necks before going back to work. “I understand you have to do it. I just think it’s very sad. An unfortunate necessity. I feel so awful for the poor creatures who were lured from the homes and right into a trap.”

 

* * *

 

Wind gusted past him. Flynn turned his head, trying to see where he was. Around him were trees, except their vibrancy had been leached out and the outlines blurred like he was seeing them through a wave of radiating heat. The wind kept rushing, fluttering his hair and filling his ears with its howl.

“Hello?” His voice echoed. Flynn looked up, expecting to see the setting sun, but the sky was pure white. “Yuri?!” The howling wind was his only response. The light gleaming on the diluted leaves was throbbing in time with his heart. That was when Flynn realized the source of the light was himself. Dazzling light radiated from his chest, banishing the darkness that pressed in from the towering trees.

Flynn started to walk, feet sinking into soil black as coal, but his right arm was dragged back. When he pulled it to his face, overcoming the sharp pain from the cut, he could see red threads growing from the bloody wound. They wrapped around his hand, overlapping and tight, and then crisscrossed as they stretched to multiple points behind him, disappearing into the trees. Some were thin like a strand of hair while others were were almost as wide as his pinky finger, and they were coated in blood that made them lump together and dribble thick red liquid into the dark soil. Flynn gasped in shock and used his free hand to grip them and pry them off, but the cords were too tough to snap and hurt his hand trying.

“What is this place? Yuri!” He could move with effort. He dragged his arm, bracing against the pain in his hand, pulling the threads longer and tighter. The bite on his palm, now a swollen red welt, throbbed with every beat of his racing heart. Beneath the net of threads and smears of blood, Flynn made out a web of black lines tracing around his hand, with the bite at the epicentre. As he watched, the black lines pushed closer to this wrist.

“I have to find Yuri,” Flynn muttered to himself. He hat to focus on something. His deep breaths filled his lungs with cold, dead air and not a sound could be heard about the raging wind. Flynn fought against it, because it was blowing in the direction his threads led and Flynn didn’t think he wanted to know what lay back there. Where was the cliff and the waterfall? He’d been standing front of a crevice only minutes ago, but now there was nothing by white sky, black ground, and trees so faded the brilliant autumn colours had turned the shade of dried blood. The light shining from his chest allowed him to see, but he couldn’t figure out what was causing it. Surely if he was wearing a star around his neck, he’d feel some sort of presence. Instead, there was nothing but a steady warmth in his chest.

He staggered forward, fighting against the wind and the binds on his hand. His other hand was pale, the skin nearly as white as the sky. Curious about this, he paused briefly to hold up his hand, and with a stare he saw the outline of a tree through his hand. “I’m a ghost,” he breathed.

Did this mean he was dead? His panic spiked as his head whipped around. The spider bite must have killed him and now his spirit was trapped here, wherever ‘here’ was. It didn’t look anything like an afterlife described by the priest, but surely it was closer to hell than the alternative. Was this his punishment for his immoral thoughts about Yuri? It felt so wrong, so backward, that an emotion that could power him through all these obstacles in an effort to rescue someone could be sinful enough to condemn him to this place.

Yuri filled his mind and the warmth and light in his chest grew greater still. He realized what it must be, now: his heart, shining bright, and thumping with life. He was _not_ dead, because a dead person wouldn’t be so full of life and breath. He was just… not in his proper body at the moment. Could Yuri be in this place too? Flynn focused on Yuri, focused on his grinning face and his casual kindness, on how warm and strong his arms were when he wrapped them around Flynn’s shoulders and threw back his head in a laugh. Thinking about Yuri made it easier to fight the pull on his hand and it even seemed to dull the wind’s roar.

Then he felt the tug. So far the pressure on his hand had been a constant pull, but now it jerked him backward. Flynn stumbled to right himself and turned so his arm was stretched in front of him. The threads tugged again and Flynn was helpless to resist. Fighting back sent shocks of pain through his hand and radiating up his wrist, while also not doing a damn thing to keep himself from being dragged forward.

“Stop!” He didn’t know who he was talking to, and he didn’t think it would listen, but it felt like something to say at the time. His feet dragged through the black earth and blood ran in rivulets down his wrist. Tears filled his eyes, a combination of the pain and panic. The threads, which had previously been scattered, began to coalesce into a single point as they drew him onward. Flynn was pulled past gnarled trees and dying bushes, all shimmering with insubstantiality as the wind rushed at his back.

A root caught his foot and he fell to his knees. The threads didn’t care and now he was being dragged, struggling to stand against as his knees ploughed the earth. All the red threads convened at a shining white light just ahead, but Flynn struggled to free his hand because he did not want to meet whatever was at the end of this path.

He couldn’t stop it. Thirty seconds later, the threads finally slackened and he fell in a heap before the mass of white. Cracking his eyes against the brightness, Flynn looked up at a towering humanoid figure. Instantly he recognized the figure, for he’d seen it several times throughout the forest. Now it had been inverted, and what had previously been shrouded in darkness now gleamed with pure white. He couldn’t tell if it was wearing a dress, or perhaps the drapes of snowy light hanging from its form were part of its body. It did have arms like a human, though they were much too long and thin as bone, with bulging joints at the elbows. One skeletal hand, its finger gnarled like twigs, wrapped around the now very short red threads that still kept Flynn’s arm upraised. Last his eyes landed on its face, or at least where I face ought to be. It had a head, and a tangled mass behind it that moved like hair but reminded Flynn of bare treetops in winter. There was a mouth on its face, but above that was nothing but an expanse of white that hurt his eyes to gaze at for too long.

The first question Flynn managed to stammer out was, “W-what do you want from me?”

Instead of answering that question, it said, “You were not supposed to come here.” Its voice hit a range precisely between masculine and feminine and though he saw its lips move (and the awful blackness that lacked any teeth behind them), the voice came from all around, thundering on the wind.

“Where _is_ here?” Flynn tried to pull his arm back, but it was no use. His hand was only inches from the bony fist clutching the red threads.

“The spinners wanted you for their own,” the ethereal voice said now. The hand not hold the threads moved and a finger, which ended on a sharp point like a snapped-off twig, pressed against the bite on Flynn’s hand. Pain stabbed through him and he cried out as the black veins surged toward his wrist. “But no matter. You flesh can be consumed in time. This shall suffice for now.”

If there had been any lingering hope that this was a benevolent being, that vanished now. “I don’t think so.” Flynn pushed against the ground and managed to get to his feet. He gave his arm a great yank and the being jerked forward. Before he could make another movement, its arm snapped up and wrenched Flynn of his feet. He cried out as the pain in his hand spiked. He dangled like a fish on a hook, his whole body weight fighting against the threads digging into his flesh.

“I cannot allow one such as you to leave.” Its free hand reached for him. Flynn turned his head away, but the needle-like fingertips touched his cheek and sent chills through his body. “One filled with so much human emotions, locked away in its heart. Ever since I got a taste of you, I knew I must have you.” The fingers gripped Flynn’s chin, forcing him to stare into the blank face. “There is nothing so succulent as a heart bursting with love… it is irresistible.”

The hand raked down his throat to his gleaming heart. Flynn kicked but hit nothing but air. He tried to grab the being’s wrist with his free hand, but it was so cold he had to instantly let go. Needles pierced his chest and the palm engulfed his light. There was no blood as the fingers dug into him, but there was pain. Flynn screamed as the being sank its hand deep into his chest, reaching for the heart that was pounding a mile a minute.

 _I’m going to die here._ It was going to eat his heart, and though he wasn’t in the mortal realm right now, he had no doubt this would kill him. He was going to die and though he knew he should be spending his final moments praying and repenting all the sins he had not yet confessed, the only regret on his mind was that he’d only ever had one kiss with Yuri. He wanted to live - he wanted to see Yuri again! Damn the consequences; what was the point of life if you didn’t live it? All his emotions and love were bottled up inside him, and because of his inaction, they were going to be taken by this being rather than given to Yuri. It wasn’t fair and Flynn refused to die without trying every trick he could think of.

There was no way to overpower this being. Nothing that could reach inside him and clench its fist around his heart could be fought physically. But what had it said? He wasn’t supposed to be here. It hadn’t planned on meeting him in this realm. It must have been the spider’s bite that knocked him out - right out of his corporeal body. The spider’s venom had brought him here and the threads growing from the wound in his palm gave the being its grip on him. Everything that was keeping him trapped in this hell was centred in his hand, and Flynn didn’t take time to think through what he was doing. All he could think was that he had to get back to Yuri and show him how much he loved him before it was all taken away.

He yanked his knife from his belt, closed his eyes, and sliced clean through his own wrist.

 

* * *

 

Flynn woke up screaming. There was agony in his wrist and he rolled onto his side, clutching the stump to try to stop the blood - only to realize there was no blood. Slowly, his screams faded into confused moans as his left hand clutched a very-much-whole wrist.

“Flynn!” Hands landed on his shoulder and Flynn twisted with a shout. Leaves crunched beneath him.

He was about to throw a punch when the person touching him came into focus and he gasped, “Yuri?” He continued clutching his wrist, certain he shouldn’t be feeling it. In fact, he couldn’t feel it. His left hand clutched flesh, but his right hand was numb like when he lost feeling in his foot from sitting on it for too long.

“It’s me, Flynn.” Yuri pinned him to the ground, keeping him from thrashing.

Flynn met Yuri’s eyes and then turned his head to see where he was. He lay on a patch of grass next to a small fire. Trees towered over him, their colours dimmed by dusk rather than haze or grey. “I - Yuri, you’re - what?” His chest heaved, which highlighted the dull ache over his heart. “Are you real?”

“Am I real? What kind of question is that? Of course I’m real.”

He certainly felt real. His fingers pressed into Flynn’s shoulders and the face hovering above him was etched with pure-Yuri concern. It was the same look Yuri gave an injured sheep, but Flynn wasn’t too bothered by it being directed at him. The grass prickling his back, the cool breeze brushing his face, and the chirp of distant crickets all felt very real. It had worked. He was back. He squeezed his right hand, wishing the sensation would come back there as well.

“Don’t feel bad,” said a familiar feminine voice. “He almost attacked me when I was just trying to help, too.” Judith was perched on a branch over Yuri’s shoulder.

Yuri loosened his grip on Flynn and sat back with his hands on his knees. “Now, do you wanna tell me what the hell is going on? Are you hurt? Why were you screaming like that?”

“I… cut off my hand.” Both Yuri and Judith turned their eyes to Flynn’s hands, resting on his chest and both attached to his wrists.

Yuri put the back of his hand to Flynn’s forehead. “Do you feel ok?”

“I’m fine.” To prove this, he pushed off the ground to get upright. His head spun with dizziness and Yuri’s arm wrapped around his back to hold him up. “I don’t think I’m injured.” Which was strange, because he remembered the sharp pain of a blade slicing into his wrist. He tried to wiggle his fingers to coax feeling back into it, but they refused to respond.

Yuri plucked a dead leaf from Flynn’s hair. “Was it a nightmare you woke up from?”

“I’m… not sure.” Flynn used his left hand to turn his right over and inspect his palm. The bandage around his hand had been taken off, and the cut on his palm had at long last scabbed over. There were no black lines radiating from the spider bit, which was just a swollen and painless lump on an otherwise lifeless piece of flesh. He was certain that what he’d seen had been more than just a dream. lay on a patch of grass next to a small fire. Trees towered over him, their colours dimmed by dusk rather than haze or grey. Flynn’s left hand went to his chest, which dully ached. “What happened?” He asked, looking up. “Did you get out of the crevice by yourself? How’s your leg?”

Yuri frowned. “What about my leg?”

“You were injured. You were in the cave.”

Yuri’s frown deepened and he looked over his shoulder at Judith. “Uh… no, I’m pretty sure I wasn’t. Sit by the fire; looks like we both need to share some stories.”

It probably wasn’t necessary to sit so close together because the small fire provided more than enough heat. They did anyway. Yuri stretched his legs across the dirt while Flynn sat cross-legged with his hands folded in his lap, close enough that he could feel Yuri’s heart radiating against his shoulder. Flynn was still a little shaken, so he made Yuri go first.

“Yesterday morning, someone opened the barn door and let a couple of the sheep loose. They chased them off, not just left them to wander. Whoever did it must have thought it was a clever prank to make me spend all the damn morning rounding them up. When I figure out who did it, you can bet they’re gonna get a piece of my mind…. Anyway, I got back some time after lunch and your old man started shouting at me until I managed to explain what was up. After I explained, he asked if I’d seen you, since you’d promised to be back by midday. I hadn’t of course, because I had been busy chasing sheep through the meadow all morning. I asked around and Karol said he saw you climbing the old wall early that morning on his way to the chicken coop. I went to check it out and, lo and behold, footprints leading into the forest. I gathered some supplies just in case and set off after you.”

Flynn gaped at him. Yuri’s story made no sense. Yuri hadn’t been going after Flynn - Flynn had been going after Yuri. He’d seen Yuri yesterday morning climbing over the wall and disappearing into the trees. Except… had he? His stomach twisted. He’d seen something that certainly looked like Yuri…. Another image came to mind, this time of a day long ago: a ferret running into a rabbit’s home, giving it a scare, and driving it out directly into a net. Flynn swallowed heavily. He’d walked right into a trap.

“This talking bird found me this afternoon. We chatted for a bit and she told me she’d met you earlier, and that she was supposed to be looking for me for you. I thought that was pretty odd, but she was nice enough to show me which way you went. We found you collapsed by a waterfall a few hours ago. Judith got the heebie-jeebies from the crevice you were in front of, and recommended we move away from it. So we’re about half an hour’s walk downhill from there. I didn’t think we could make it out of the forest this evening, so I set up a small camp.”

Flynn stared into the flickering flames. The puzzle was coming together now, and he didn’t like the picture it was forming. “I see. So, I was a fool all along. I thought I was following you.”

“Huh?” Yuri frowned at him. “How would that work?”

Flynn told his story carefully, not sparing Yuri any detail. Yuri listened attentively and held his tongue as Flynn spoke, even though he clearly wanted to comment on some of the more perilous situations Flynn had found himself in. As Flynn spoke, the orange tones of dusk gave way to deep blue and finally black with stars speckling the sky. When he got to the end, he turned his face away from the fire and met Yuri’s eyes. “And what I realized then, as I thought I was about to die, was that the only thing I truly regretted in life was not allowing myself to love you.”

Yuri’s eyes widened and his lips parted in a soft, “Oh.”

“So this is my decision now, Yuri. I know we can’t publicly be together, but I don’t want to spend the rest of my life pretending you don’t mean the world to me. There will always be empty barns, over the walls, and secluded nights. We’ll have to be discreet, but if it means being more than just a friend to you… I want to try it. What do you say?”

Yuri sat silently for several very long seconds. “There’s nothing to say.” Then he leaned in and kissed Flynn.

Flynn could feel his heart shining brighter than the sun, but at the same time, it was dimming. The love that had been wrapped up inside him was finally released into the world - into Yuri - and a weight he hadn’t even realized he was carrying lessened its hold on him. It would be better if they could be open about their love, but as long as that could never happen, a secret bond shared between them would suffice.

“Ok, boys,” Judith said. “That was very sweet.”

Flynn pulled away quickly; he’d forgotten they had an audience. “Ahem. Yes. Right. Er - Yuri, do you have any food?”

Yuri snickered and then opened a bag. He’d obviously come more prepared than Flynn. He tossed a chunk of bread to Flynn, who instinctively raised his right hand to catch it. It bounced off his knuckled and fell to his lap. Flynn frowned and picked it up with his left.

Yuri watched this with concern. “What’s wrong with your hand?”

Flynn looked down at the hand resting on his leg. “You know how I told you I caught off my hand to escape? I think that damaged it here, in the real world. It’s like… I cut off my mind’s connection to it, but not the actual flesh.”

“That’s… pretty weird.”

They had their cloaks and the fire for warmth, and Yuri passed Flynn a flask filled from the stream. It was a meagre supper, but Flynn was starving so he couldn’t complain.

“Are you sure this fire is safe?” Flynn asked Judith, who pecked at some nuts Yuri had given her. “It won’t attract anything unpleasant?”

“You should be fine. Anything that finds light unpleasant will be frightened off by the smell of smoke. Now that you’ve dimmed that light in your chest, it’s even better.”

“That’s good to know.” Despite the fire and the cloak wrapped around himself, Flynn still felt five icy pinpricks on his skin. He’d checked while telling the story and seen no marks, but the feeling remained. “What I want to know is what was in the crevice if it wasn’t Yuri? It certainly sounded like him.”

“I’d say it was probably the same thing that you’ve been following this whole time. You’d just found its lair. The same thing that tried to eat your heart when you were gone from here, but in its physical form.”

“So was that the beast?” Yuri asked, munching on some cheese. “A scary ghost thing that eats hearts?”

“I’m not sure,” Flynn said slowly. “I was attacked by a huge furry monster… and I was nearly killed by a swarm of spiders. I don’t think either of those things were related to the thing that I confronted. It seemed irritated with the spiders for getting involved, actually. It had wanted to meet me in the physical world.” Not for the first time, Flynn wondered what would have happened if he’d decided not to risk lighting the lantern and walking into the cave. He shivered and decided he didn’t want to know. “I don’t think there is a singular beast. The whole forest is just….”

“Hungry,” Judith supplied. “It’s like I said. The forest hasn’t eaten in a long time. What did you expect when you came in here waving around that shining heart of yours? Everything in the area wanted a piece of it.”

“Heh. Wow, Flynn, I never knew you felt that strongly.”

Flynn looked away and grumbled, “Shut up.”

“Well, it’s been fun,” Judith said, “but I’m pretty sleepy. I’m not an owl, you know. You two should go to sleep, too.”

“Wait, Judith,” Flynn said. “If you wouldn’t mind, you could stay here overnight and help us out of the forest tomorrow? I’m sure you can lead us on the most direct path.”

“Ooh, now there’s a clever idea. Sure, I can do that. Rest up then because I want to get moving at the break of dawn!”

Flynn and Yuri finished eating soon after. Flynn had been unconscious for much of the late afternoon, but it hadn’t been restful so he was still exhausted. The two of them curled up together by the fire, sharing body heat.

“I’m glad you’re safe,” Yuri murmured in Flynn’s ear.

“I’m sorry for starting this. If I hadn’t fallen for the creature’s trick….”

“Don’t worry about it. I fell for it too, I think, because I have a pretty good idea of who let out the sheep.”

“Yuri… what do you think I should do now that my hand is dead? It will be so difficult to do so many jobs around the cottage.”

Yuri squeezed Flynn against his chest. “You should thank your lucky stars you have a hired farmhand to help you out. Don’t worry, Flynn, you’ll get by. The important thing is that you only lost your hand, not your heart.”

“That’s not exactly true.” Flynn’s eyes were closed now as sleep was coming on fast.

“Oh, yeah?”

“I did lost my heart, because I’ve given it to you.”

Yuri kissed the back of his neck. “Then you can have mine.”


End file.
